


Lessons

by acosmist_t



Series: Draco Malfoy One Shots [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Daddy Dom Draco Malfoy, Degradation, Dom/sub, F/M, Jealous Draco Malfoy, Knifeplay, Masochism, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Restraints, Sadism, Smut, Vibrators, dom!draco, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29189604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acosmist_t/pseuds/acosmist_t
Summary: Draco Malfoy was known for his jealous streak. And when he sees someone touching what’s his, a lesson must be taught.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Series: Draco Malfoy One Shots [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020781
Comments: 1
Kudos: 59





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 4.1k
> 
> Request: heyyyyy from the sinful smut prompt list or the kinks list how about a super rough dom draco with any prompt from the smut list or the kinks list you go as crazy as you’d like with it
> 
> Warnings: creepy and drunk dude in the beginning (it’s short dw), sub/dom dynamic, bdsm, restraints, masturbation, vibrator, orgasm denial, punishment/sadism/masochism, bloodplay, slut shaming/degradation, praising
> 
> a/n: the power you gave me, anon. this is more kinky than focused on the roughness, but still quite enjoyable. also longer than i expected lol

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you weren’t quite sure how you found yourself in your current relationship. You had never been one of _those_ girls—the type of talk about boys all the time, imagining (and often fulfilling) a plethora of different fantasies. 

Your friends? Sure. But you? Never.

At first, you almost believed there was something wrong with you. Every boyfriend in the past had just been too...plain? Boring? Vanilla, you think they called it? That’s not to say that _you_ knew anything better, but sex with them just didn’t satisfy you.

And maybe that _was_ the exact reason you had started your entanglement with Draco Malfoy. Because it took one drunk mishap, one quickie in a broom closet, for you to know that he was _precisely_ what you had been missing.

“Oi, Y/N!”

You spun at the voice calling you, eyes squinting in the dark to pick out Seamus jogging his way over to you. You pushed back that urge to keep walking, knowing just how much of a pest he could be, especially in his clearly drunken state.

“Yes, Seamus?” You paused, leaning against the wall as he made his way in front of you. He wobbled on his feet, a bottle of butterbeer splashing precariously over the rim. You moved a bit to avoid it reaching your shoes.

“Out past curfew, are you?” He stopped a few inches from you, that cocky smirk on his face. Your skin crawled as he continued, “Bad, bad girl.”

“Go back to your party. I just want to get to my dorm.” You tried to sidestep him, but his hand latched around your left wrist, encircling it. The alcohol in his breath made your nose wrinkle.

“To Malfoy? I’ve heard whispers about-”

“Get the fuck off of her, Finnigan.”

A sigh of relief fell from you the second you heard the newest addition. Seamus’ hand loosened enough for you to pull away, effectively stumbling away and into a new (and much more familiar) body. Draco found a grip on your right arm, near-bruising with the strength of it.

Seamus sputtered for a minute, still beyond wasted. But his logic seemed to fill him, or maybe that was just the reaction to the look in Draco’s eyes, because he backpedaled immediately. Draco didn’t linger long enough to watch the Gryffindor go, pulling you right behind him.

You followed silently, brushing off the experience easily enough. Some sort of excitement pooled at the aggression, an odd, twisted sort that made you bite your lip to stay quiet. Draco’s face was set, cold, angry, and it only served to make you bounce a little as he dragged you to the dungeons.

He wasted no time in pulling you into his prefect room, locking the door behind him as he pinned you against the wall, holding both your wrists above your head.

He snarled in your face, “So, you’re just some whore, aren’t you? Some needy slut who begs for cock?”

You lifted your chin, decidedly not giving in. You wanted to push him. “I need someone to take care of me-”

He pulled your wrists forward and slammed them against the wall harder. Bruising impact. “You just spread your legs for any man, won’t you? Desperate _fucking_ whore.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out, only heavy breathing—heavier as his pupils expanded, cruel delight swimming in them. His other hand found your throat, squeezing tighter than you were used to.

“Spit it out, bitch. Tell me what you fucking want. You want me to fuck you, yeah? You’re probably already wet for me.” And that hand dove under your skirt, not needing to go under your panties to find the evidence. It already soaked the fabric.

You gasped, and he pinched your clit sharply. Your knees buckled, needing the hand still holding your arms up to keep you standing.

“Go wash yourself. I don’t want used goods.” He spat the words, dropping you and backing away. As you shakily walked to the attached bathroom, he added, “Make sure to get that left wrist. Don’t want a slimy git touching what’s mine ever again. I don’t share.”

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled. You stripped quickly, getting into the shower and scrubbing yourself completely. You did, in fact, clean your wrist a bit extra, knowing just how much you’d be punished if you didn’t.

You tied your hair up loosely as you dried off, slight preparation for what you knew would be coming. The entire process was kept short, anticipation making it mechanical. Well-practiced. Clothes were left on the floor, and you exited the bathroom completely bare, mascara still running from the steam of the shower.

Draco was unrolling a thick piece of fabric on the bed. Inside, there were pockets, straps, intricate tools kept in place. To anyone else, it might have looked macabre, but to you, it was nearly a godsend.

You stopped at his side, one hand on his shoulder while the other reached for his jaw, turning him to face you. He gripped your hand tightly, looking you up and down disdainfully.

“You haven’t earned the right to touch me,” he hissed, picking up a pair of velvet-lined handcuffs. He handed them to you, pushing away, and ordered, “Put these on. You need to learn your manners.”

“Yes, sir.” You began locking the cuffs around your wrists. You held them up to him when you were done.

“And you know the safeword?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded, leading you to a bar hanging from the middle of the room. It was horizontal, with two more vertical ones attaching it to the ceiling. He rigged a small chain up quickly and connected your handcuffs to the bar, your heels almost lifting off the ground from the stretch.

You had your arms secured above your head, completely exposed and accessible in whatever way he wanted. Your eyes fell onto that pouch, and you would’ve grinned if Draco wasn’t already circling you. If someone were to walk in, they likely would have believed he was torturing you. And perhaps he was, but in the best way possible.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” He trailed his hands over your body, but didn’t linger. His shirt was unbuttoned, fluttering as he moved, but it wasn’t off. You knew this wouldn’t be about him tonight.

You shook your head defiantly. “I didn’t do anything. Seamus was the one-”

“I don’t want to hear his name. That’s your first rule—no other name but mine. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But you wanted it, didn’t you?” He picked up the first item from the bed. It was an extending stick; one side held tassels, soft on your skin, while the other resembled a riding crop. Not so soft. “You were desperate enough.”

“No. He came onto me. I only wanted to get back from the library. I was studying for Slughorn’s-”

The crop met your ass. The smack resounded. “Rule number one. Nobody else’s name.”

“But-”

Another hit. You winced, skin flushing bright red. He wasn’t gentle with you at all, and that’s what made that slickness grow.

“I bet you just wanted him to fuck you. Maybe something quick in an alcove. You’re just a slut who needs some cock.” You felt him spit on your ass, the crop following so swift that you gasped.

“It wasn’t like that.”

“You like this. You’re sick. Fucking deranged.” He started dragging the leather around, facing your front. Your legs were pressed together, thighs squeezing in an attempt to relieve the throbbing there. Draco slid the whip between them, edging them apart as he moved to your apex. You clenched them closed harder, and he growled, “Open.”

It earned a whimper. “No.”

His face hardened, and he drew the crop up, slow as he brought it to your breast. Poised right over the nipple. “Open them. I know you do it for everyone else, you pathetic slut.”

You whined, cheeks blooming red from the humiliation. Before you could react, he brought the whip away from your skin, then returned it with startling accuracy. Your back arched as it hit your nipple, and you cried out loudly.

“Try to stay quiet for me. Can you do that? Are you capable of that much?” When you didn’t respond, he aimed another hit. “Speak when you are spoken to.”

“Y-yes, sir. P-please.”

“Look at you,” he crooned, caressing your jaw with the leather, turning it up and to the side, baring your throat. “So pretty when you’re begging. Is that the way you treat all of the men—pleading like a common whore?”

“O-only you, sir.” You didn’t notice the stress on your shoulders, the building ache. Pain only added to the pleasure.

Draco nodded, prideful. “Count to ten for me. Miss a number, and we restart.” He was facing your backside again, crop brushing your ass, then lifting. Preparation. “Ready?”

You swallowed, dipping your head up and down. “Yes, sir.”

The first hit was soft. “One,” you whispered.

“Louder,” he reprimanded.

This one was harder. “Two.” Your voice wavered, but came out stronger.

And it kept going, never missing a beat until you reached ten. You knew the skin was probably red, maybe welted. Draco never went easy on you, least of all when he was jealous. You released a breath when he placed the crop down, then another got caught in your throat when you saw what he pulled out.

He walked back towards you, vibrator in hand, a smirk on his face. “You did well. I’m almost proud. Do you know what you did wrong now?”

You bit your lip, considering just what type of brat you wanted to be. You smiled as the decision was made. “No. I told you I did nothing wrong. You’re not my boyfriend, Draco.”

His hand shot forward, twisting your right nipple harshly. “I’m more than that. Have you still not learned?”

You shook your head. You wouldn’t give in so easily. “As far as I’m concerned, I can fuck whoever-”

He took only one step forward, close enough that you were chest to chest, fingers pinching your chin. “You get off on punishment, don’t you? Does it make you wet? Do you like making me mad?” He pressed the words into your skin, ghosting them across your jaw.

He moved back down, meeting your lips hungrily. The kiss was dark, desirable, intoxicating as he broke the seam apart, entangling his tongue with your own. You were drowning in it; the feeling, the brushes, the strength. So much so, that you hadn’t realized his hand had moved until you felt it smack your brutalized ass, a few tears leaving your eyes.

You whimpered loudly—too loudly. And the second that sound left your mouth, Draco’s teeth sunk down, puncturing the soft flesh of your bottom lip. Blood leaked into your mouth, and he only kept kissing you, letting it get into his own.

Finally, he pulled away, not without a last lick at your lip, and held the vibrator up. It was large, angled to hit your g-spot perfectly. “Clearly—” he took a breath, “—you have yet to learn your lesson.”

His hand crept to your apex, pushing your legs apart. He slid a finger through your folds, your wetness. One more pinch to your clit, which you kept contained to an intake of air. Two fingers circled your entrance, and you nearly moaned as they moved in with ease, your arousal apparent.

Then, without further warning, he slid the vibrator in, all the way to the hilt. There was an attached piece that moved over your clit on the outside, rubbing against it. And if that was good, the minute Draco turned it on had you seeing stars.

And then he walked away, dropping his hands and dusting them off like you were dirt. He moved onto the bed, your position a clear view, facing each other as he laid his back against the pillows. Entirely at ease. He slid down his tented trousers, underwear with them, and his erection slapped up to his stomach.

You moaned at the sight, half-distracted by the stimulation coming from the vibrator. For a second, he looked at you seriously, waiting for your nod of consent. You gave it immediately.

“You’re not allowed to cum. I don’t care how close you are, or how good it feels—you are not allowed. And if you do, I leave you there for an hour. If you cum twice, two hours. Understood?”

You blinked at him. You knew he would keep his promise—had experienced that promise more than once. “B-but-”

You already could feel that coiling in your stomach, the past events enough to have you on the edge.

“But nothing. And if you make noise, consider it an extra hour.” And then he began to stroke himself, leisurely as he watched you writhe, thighs clenching as new spots were hit over and over.

The buzzing was solid, hitting sensitive spots and you knew that if you let yourself go right now, observing Draco as he pleasured himself to your struggle, you would be screaming. Your teeth bit into the spot he had punctured, iron filling your mouth, as your clit was massaged in tandem.

It was too much.

Tears rose alongside the first sign of your climax. The coil tightened, drawing everything in your body and centering it on the moment. You were bucking your hips, trying to fight the urge to cum when that’s exactly what Draco was expecting. He smiled, and you glared.

A groan slipped past his mouth, tumbling as his hand sped up, lubricated by precum. It made your muscles contract, remembering the sound of it against the shell of your ear.

 _No. No, don’t think of that. Think of anything else_. You focused on your mind, ignoring the g-spot that was slowly being worked completely and totally.

Another moan from him, and you shut your eyes tightly. You were falling off the edge of orgasm, holding it in with everything you had. You pressed your thighs together, but that only made it move to a new angle on your clit, making your toes curl.

Your name. You were nearly undone.

And that’s how it went: Draco, giving himself the orgasm that _he_ owed _you_ ; and you, desperately trying not to let the coil snap—a feat that grew more difficult by the second.

The vibrator sped up, and you screamed. “Please,” you gasped out. “P-please, sir.”

Your begging made him groan loudly, and you lifted your lids to see him cumming in his hand, ecstasy rushing through his veins. He looked caught in the middle ground of heaven and hell. That coil grew so tight you were almost scared to let it snap.

Draco met your eyes. He smiled. Shook his head.

Your tears fell freely, coursing down your cheeks.

You bit down on your tongue, trying to staunch the pleasure with pain, but that only made it worse. He left you there, hanging, for the longest ten minutes of your life, writhing and shaking against your constraints. Sometimes, the release would wane, then return sevenfold, making you sob because of how much you wanted it.

And finally, it clicked off. There was arousal dripping all down your legs, soaking your thighs, but you could bring yourself to care. His length was already rousing, and he walked towards you at a snail’s pace, making you tremble in anticipation. You didn’t know if you were more scared of him taking away the vibrator or turning it back on.

“Did that make my slut happy? Did you enjoy that punishment?” He trailed fingertips on your skin, once more circling you.

You shook your head, knees shaking. “N-no, sir. Please, I want to cum. I learned my lesson.” You were swollen, sensitive, muscles cramped from the effort of holding back your climax.

His grin was genuine, and you could imagine how others could view his sadism as bad, but to you, it was everything and more. “And who do you belong to?”

“You, sir. I’m all yours.”

His pupils blew more than possible at that, and he reached between your legs, slipping the vibrator out quickly. More arousal flowed out. “Good girl. I knew you weren’t dumb.”

You nodded, accepting the praise as his hands worked at your handcuffs, removing them from the bar, still clasped over your wrists. Your back muscles ached, all the way up to your shoulders and biceps, but you wouldn’t have time to dwell on it.

Draco put your arms in front of you, sparing you a millisecond of rest as he led you to the bed, laying you with your stomach up in the center. He reconnected those handcuffs to the headboard, but the strain was much lighter when gravity was on your side.

“I bought you this,” he started, pulling a silver anklet out of his pocket. “So everyone knows you’re mine.”

You waited for him to continue, his mouth still parted like there was more. He began placing the chain around your left ankle. There was a small letter attached. _D_. You smiled at it, enjoying the sentiment.

When he was done, he looked back up to you. Flashed his left hand. Your chest caved in. There was a matching silver ring, your first initial carved on it. Because he was yours.

He saw your eyes widen, then began crawling over to you. “If you so much as look at someone else too long, you won’t be able to walk for a week. You’re my slut, not Potter’s, not Finnigan’s, not anyone else’s. _Mine_.”

You nodded, shifting on the bed. “Yes, sir.”

He was braced over you, but he didn’t go to your lips, instead choosing to mark up your body. He left love bites everywhere, red and purple, bloody and beautiful. You arched more at each one, that coiling renewing. Then, there was cold metal on your body.

Draco slid a knife down your side, sharp point scratching, but not breaking skin. Your heart leaped to your throat, feeling the danger, the proximity of fatality, all in his grip. A Death Eater’s grip. He traced over your stomach, then brought it to one of your hipbones, circling the spot.

He moved to the other, and you were squirming. He brought the point in, dug it until a tear of blood welled. You met his eyes, nodding for him to continue.

“Color?” he asked. He was always more careful at this part, and you picked out the wand just a few feet away, within reaching distance.

“Green,” you replied, closing your eyes, letting him take over.

He slid it along your upper thigh, the frigidness making goosebumps break out, contrary to the near-combustion working through your body. He tapped it once, and you spread your legs, knowing one wrong move would lead you to a world of pain.

He traced the outer lips, tapping whenever you moved too much. He whispered praises matched with degradation: your favorite combination.

“My slut,” he breathed. “Pathetic and needy whore….belongs to me.”

He pressed the flat end of the knife against your clit, the coldness against the pulsing organ making your blood jump. Draco slowly traced around it, pushing the tip in lightly. The coil tightened.

He left the area, tracing back up to your chest. He circled your right breast, moving up to the peak, then drawing patterns around the areola. Teasing. The only sounds until then were heavy breathing, Draco’s murmurs, and your racing heart. Until you whimpered.

He drew another bead of blood.

Then, he repeated the process on your other breast. You held back the whimper this time, and no blood followed. Some level of disappointment filled you.

The knife lifted and his lips took control, running tongue and teeth over the nipple. He bit lightly, and you bucked. You arched against his mouth, and he only kept going, making it swell and swell. He was sloppy, making you crave that release.

And when he moved, you expected him to go to the right. Your jaw dropped as he kissed down your sternum, leaving hickeys in his wake. He looked about to move again, but then his eyes met yours. One last check. You gave it to him.

“Mine,” he said against your skin, and your eyes shut as he traced his knife down the path, pushing in. It was a shallow cut, but the blood still bled, a light stream down your arched body. It stung, but something about it made your mouth water.

The cut was a different form of release, and you savored it.

It was right down the middle, a perfect vertical mark down your breastbone. Draco made eye contact as he licked up, letting the blood get onto his tongue. He was hard against your thigh, and the crimson only made him want more.

And once more, the coil twisted tighter and tighter.

You only received pleasure from the hurt, and Draco seemed to only receive pleasure from inflicting the hurt.

He traced his tongue from bottom to top again, and you could see the red on his tongue, staining pearly white teeth, a bit on his lips. You whimpered, not caring about the cut as hooked your legs around his hips.

“Teach me my lesson,” you whispered.

He grinned.

Draco rid himself of his clothes, throwing them off the bed as he gathered your legs and bent them over his shoulders. He aligned himself with your entrance, replacing the blunt edge of the knife against your throat. Pushed it down on your airway.

“You see that anklet?” he asked as he began to slide in.

“Yes, sir-” The last bit got broken off with a moan.

“You see my initial?” He started to snap in, pace relentless.

“Yes, sir,” you managed, gasping from the deep penetration.

He pushed the knife harder against your throat, bring your eyes to his. “If you ever fuck anyone else, I hope you see that anklet dangling over their shoulder. And I hope you know that you’re still mine. My slut, that’s it.”

You nodded, eyes rolling back as he thrust. You could see sweat beading on his forehead, determination as he hit you with a bruising speed. Your legs shook immediately, every nerve sensitized to the treatment he was giving you. The bed shook and creaked, but he didn’t seem to care, even though there was no Silencing Charm on the room.

You whimpered a bit, the stretch and brutality almost getting to you. Almost, but not quite.

He kept that positioning, tilting and testing your flexibility so he could hit your clit with his pubic bone. Your release rose up, every feeling clouding in your ears as he told you that you might be a whore, but you were still his.

That coil tightened more than you thought possible, set alight to the moans and groans filtering through the space.

“S-sir. Gonna cum—please, can I cum?” You could hardly get the words out, the angle making you see stars, abs clenching. “ _Fuck_ ,” you screamed as he scraped a new spot.

Draco didn’t respond, lost in his bliss, unforgiving on your body. “Feel so good,” he said, “so tight. You just wanted my cock, didn’t you?”

You nodded, “Yes. Yes, sir. Can I cum? I—I need to cum.”

You felt him twitch inside of you, and he pressed the knife in more, your eyes catching on the pendent with his initial. _His_.

Silver flashed your peripheral. A new ring added to the collection. _Yours_.

“Cum,” he finally granted, “cum around me, slut.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, letting that coil snap, that burning fire blow, as you tightened around him, thighs squeezing his body. You rode out your orgasm, his name falling next to the cries, every muscle shaking as you let go.

And the sensation had him finishing within a few more strokes. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned as he broke his climax, filling you up entirely.

After a minute of breathing, he pulled out, falling back onto his haunches. You grimaced as you brought your legs down, feeling all types of sore and tired. But it only lasted as long as Draco waited.

And by that, you meant one minute. He moved back over you, undoing the handcuffs before letting his hands trail over your body. You grinned, rolling your wrists as you realized just how long of a night you had ahead of you. You felt his sharp jaw, threaded your fingers through his hair. You earned your right to touch him this time.

“Are you sure you learned your lesson?” he murmured, kissing you feverishly.

You pulled back, biting your lip as you met his eyes. 

“No.”


End file.
